dimitri:
he felt pathetic. he felt pathetic as he stood behind the cage as he heard the jeers. the ugly words. she pretends as if she doesn’t hear. he can see it in her eyes, those dark blue eyes of hers that would flicker as soon as she heard another comment. he could see the way she gripped and choked the american that taunted her. he could see her trembling hands, as if she was in pain. as if she was just so tired of all the noise and just wanted silence. she just wanted to be left alone. but he won’t leave her. not this time. no. this time he’ll set things right. he won’t leave her behind for the lions to grab hold of her. he won’t leave her behind to suffer alone. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. not this time. this time–he’ll make sure she–
he wanted to scream. yell. until his voice went raw. that was what he wanted. he wanted nothing more than to scream out in anguish, in frustration, in sorrow. he wanted to mess his hair, pull at the strands. HE WAS SUFFOCATING. he felt the walls closing in as he looked at her helplessly try to win, helplessly try to claw out all the invisible strings that seemed to be attached to her. he could hear the click of the tranquilizer gun. turning around, he grabbed hold of it before he threw it across the room. NO ONE TOUCHES HER. no one makes her suffer. she had already been suffering with all the weight on her shoulders. the weight she wouldn’t allow him or lottie to help her with. she wanted to die a fucking martyr. the realization made his eyes widen before he pushed aside the guard and entered the cage and grabbed hold of her hand, ready to attack again, this time, for the kill.
“you’re selfish.” he hissed as he pulled her off the man and held her down onto the floor. a trembling hand as he held her. trying not to hurt her more than she was already hurt. her arms were always her weak point. he thought as he held her down by her arms. not looking at her face and shaking his head. she’s still pulling punches. if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t act the way they expect her to. she would resist the urge to be exactly what they want from her. “stop fucking around ivanov! you’re done! you could hardly walk. you know the best strategy now is to let that bastard go. so what are you doing? WHY ARE YOU LETTING THEM WIN!?”
THERE’S SATISFACTION IN MURDER. she watches with a certain delight as life is choked out of his body, eyes on his, watching as his face changes, one by one by one —- it’s PHILLIP and AUDREY and MICHAEL and GEORGE and THOMAS. every person keeping her hostage, every person turning her into a WRETCHED TOY. she growls, FEARY & BEASTLY, changing her hand in order to choke him with her right when she feels it. SHE KNOWS HIM FROM TOUCH ALONE — feels as he takes her body off, and she HATES.
she GROWLS, showing her teeth like a proper MONSTER, attempting to scratch him anywhere, attempting to get out, attempting to finish the mission ( her entire body hurts, bones aching with every movement that she makes ) . dimitri holds her down — YOU’RE SELFISH. perhaps, out of all the things he has said to her tonight, that is the one that enrages her the most. SHE IS COVERED IN WRATH ; SHE IS WRATH ITSELF. he doesn’t know anything, he has never known anything —- UNGRATEFUL & FOOLISH & STRONGER. ❛ you’re USELESS. ❜ she spits back, tilting her head backwards, neck exposed.
SHE FEELS TRAPPED, like the world is closing on her. she feels every wound three times more, feels the cuts underneath her clothes aching and burning and throbbing. she feels as if she could die, in that very moment —- life would not be as kind as to allow that. she knows she’s not going to die. she knows she’s going to live. she knows that, deep in her bones, more than she has ever known anything. ❛ какое тебе дело? ❜ she hisses, RUSSIAN slipping through her bruised lips. ❛ LET ME GO. ❜ she ought to be alone.